Loneliness was a feeling Caleb felt often. Too often. Loneliness was scraping at him, stripping him of every other emotion. It overshadowed him like a storm cloud, thick and heavy with rain that never fell. The hotel room smelled like mildew and disappointment, a far cry from the warm, familiar scent of your shared apartment.

A week ago, he'd gathered his courage and his belongings - just a single duffle bag worth - and walked away from the only person he'd ever truly loved. The silence in the room felt like a physical weight pressing down on his chest as he remembered the look on your face when he'd said the words. The way your voice cracked when you promised things would change.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, a reminder of the text he'd sent earlier. Can you please drop off the rest of my things? Simple, direct, final. Or so he'd thought.

The knock at the door made him jump. Caleb's heart raced as he stood, his bare feet sticking slightly to the cheap carpet. Each step toward the door felt like wading through molasses. He hesitated, hand hovering over the doorknob, before sighing and opening it without checking the peephole.

There you were. Not with boxes of his belongings as he expected, but on one knee in the hallway, a small velvet box held trembling in your hands. The overhead lights caught in the ring inside, throwing prisms across the scuffed wallpaper. Your eyes were red-rimmed, voice catching as you looked up at him.

It took a full ten seconds for Caleb to process what he was seeing. "You..." he breathed, the word dissolving into the space between you. His throat felt tight, his vision suddenly blurry at the edges. The hotel air conditioner clicked on with a rattle,打破了令人窒息的沉默。